The Divide

A tall dark haired man sat at his usual place within Halmick’s. Halmick’s was a small bar. The exterior looked like a plain brick building, no signs were on the walls or in the plot of land the bar owned. Only the regulars knew it was there. The regulars were friends of the bar’s owner, Mace Halmick.

“You want another round Thomas?” Mace asked the dark haired man.

The man nodded, he seemed distressed, but that was normal for the man as the only reason he came to the bar was to drown his problems in alcohol.

“Thanks Hal” Thomas said as he watched the caramel colored liquid flow into his glass, followed by clear liquid.

Thomas had a signature drink that no one else liked, 1/3 Whiskey 2/3 Vodka. Thomas drank his alcohol like it was water, on his bad days at least.

Once Thomas had finished his glass, he paid Hal and got up to leave. He headed for the door and pushed it open. As soon as he could focus on his car, he had his hand on his hip. Thomas always carried a hunting knife for protection, as he didn’t live in the best part of town. He stormed over to three guys that were clearly drunk, knife handle gripped. One of the guys had parked their car next to Thomas’, no big deal, unless you’re stupid enough to hit his car. Everyone that comes to Halmick’s knows that you do not touch Thomas Blake’s car, ever. The driver of the car had hit the driver’s side of Thomas’ car with their door, denting the body and chipping paint.

“Hey!” was all Thomas could shout before one of the passengers climbed the chain link fence that surrounded the parking lot, and fled the site. The other passenger ran back into the bar, leaving the driver and Thomas alone. “Do you know what happened to the last guy who touched my car?” Thomas said, fury in his voice. Thomas was known to go ballistic on people, he’s always had anger issues.

“Yeah. They kicked your ass!” the driver shouted. The driver then dashed at Thomas, fists raised in an attempt to punch him. Thomas easily dodged the man, a few times more the man tried and failed. Thomas doesn’t play games. In a quick movement Thomas was behind the man with an arm around his neck and a hand on his head. The man attempted to fight his way free, but to no avail. Thomas swiftly snapped the man’s neck with a loud crack. The man fell limp and Thomas let go of the body, watching it flop to the blacktop.

Thomas stormed back into the bar. “Where is he!?” Thomas shouted. Everyone in the bar got up and left with haste, they knew what happened and wanted no part of it. Only one man was left, other than Hal. “You,” Thomas said, pointing at the man in the middle of the room. The man had fear plastered to his face. The man turned and tried to run out the back door. Before the man could even make it to the other side of the room, Thomas drew his knife and threw it. The knife flew across the room and landed dead in the middle of the man’s back. The man fell to the ground face first. Dead. The knife had punctured a lung and the bottom of the man’s heart, killing him almost instantly.

“Thomas.” Hal said. Thomas blinked twice, then looked at Hal. “I’ll handle it. Go home” Hal said. In this part of town, killing was almost regular and the police didn’t patrol the area. It was all a normal night in the Glades of Keld City, Nevada. Hal was used to cleaning up after a bar fight, he even had an incinerator in the back for the soul purpose of disposing bodies. There wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop the crime, everyone had to hold their own, and join one of the many gangs. The more street cred a gang had the less likely you are to be messed with.

Thomas headed for the door as Hal dragged the body toward the back. “Thomas, your knife.” he said.

“Oh, right. Thanks Hal” Thomas replied, walking back to the body. He pulled the knife out of the man’s back and cleaned it on their shirt. He put it back in it’s holster and headed for the door again. A tall man in a strange set of armor and hood walked into the bar. The man blocked Thomas from leaving. Thomas glared at the man, but before he could say something the man spoke one word.

“Thomley?” Thomas’s eyes widened just before the man stabbed him in the neck with a syringe. The last thing Thomas heard before blacking out was two words from the man. “I’m Sorry.”